Forever His

Chapter 69: Heat Of The Moment

Shahmeer's POV:

Her lips are still on mine again, her touch a blazing fire I can't escape—don't want to escape. It's as if she's determined to unravel me, layer by layer, and I can feel my carefully built restraint snapping like fragile thread. My hands, once steady, are now possessive, gliding over her back and hips as if they have a mind of their own.

She kisses me with an intensity that makes me forget where I am, who I am—everything except her. My breaths grow heavier, mingling with hers in the quiet hum of the room. The faint scent of jasmine from her hair mingles with the taste of her lipstick on my lips. Everything about her is intoxicating, pulling me deeper into a whirlwind I don't want to escape.

I adjust my grip on her, one hand sliding down to support her while the other tangles in her hair. Her head tilts instinctively, granting me access, and I don't hesitate to trail kisses down her jawline, her pulse quickening beneath my lips. She lets out a quiet gasp when I graze the sensitive spot just below her ear. The sound shoots through me like a bolt of lightning, awakening something deeper, something primal.

"Shahmeer," she whispers, my name falling from her lips like a plea. Her fingers tug gently at the hair at the nape of my neck, and I groan, the sound low and guttural. I don't think she realizes what she's doing to me, the control she has. Or maybe she does, and that makes it worse—or better.

Her hands slide under my shirt, her touch searing against my skin. I shiver involuntarily, and her lips curve into a small, triumphant smile. She pulls back slightly, her eyes meeting mine, her pupils dark and blown.

"What's wrong?" she teases, her voice soft yet challenging. "I thought you were the one in control."

I exhale sharply, the sound turning into a low chuckle. "Careful, sweetheart," I warn, my voice rough, strained. "You're playing a dangerous game."

Her smile widens, mischief glinting in her eyes. "I like danger."

That's it. Any remaining shred of composure I had left vanishes. I let her down, her legs shaking. The sight dissipates quickly as I press her against the nearest wall, pinning her there like she's mine. Because she is—at least right now, in this moment, she's all mine.

Her breath hitches, but she doesn't falter. If anything, she presses closer, her lips finding mine again with renewed fervor. Her nails rake down my back through the fabric of my shirt, and I can't hold back the groan that escapes me. She smirks against my lips, knowing exactly what she's doing.

"Cocky, aren't you?" I murmur, my lips brushing against hers as I speak.

"Confident," she counters, her voice a soft whisper that sends a shiver down my spine.

I lower my head to her neck again, this time slower, more deliberate. Her skin is soft, warm, and the way she shivers beneath my touch is addictive. I press open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone, tasting her, marking her. She gasps when I nip at her skin, her hands clutching my shoulders for support.

"Shahmeer," she whispers again, her voice breathy and laced with something that makes my chest tighten. My name has never sounded better—more right—than it does on her lips.

I pull back just enough to look at her, to take in the way her cheeks are flushed, her lips swollen, her hair tousled. She's a mess, but she's beautiful—so damn beautiful it hurts. Her eyes meet mine, and for a moment, everything else fades. There's only her, only us, and the way she makes me feel like I'm on the edge of something I can't name.

"You're driving me insane," I confess, my voice low, almost a growl.

"Good," she whispers, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile. "That's exactly what I want."